


bucket your hat

by zohe



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - School, Crushes, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, M/M, a little swearing, just a lot of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-04 20:44:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15849021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zohe/pseuds/zohe
Summary: Bucket hats are great.And that’s great with a capital G. Just ask our very own self acclaimed bucket hat enthusiast, Im Jaebum.Yup, that’s him over there. The one with the bucket hat.(In which the B in JB stands for Bucket hats; hm, then what about the J?)





	1. one.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a fluffy piece, heh.  
> Yep, you guessed it: Inspired by a picture of Jaebum in his bucket hat.

 

One. They’re great for when you don’t want to look at the world.

It is a noble invention, really. An additional inch or so along the circumference – just about the perfect length to allow him to easily see the road ahead and watch where he was going, crucially important so that Jaebum could navigate around walls, general objects that stood in his way, and well, _people_ , without losing an arm or a leg. He could get from point A to point B with what he would consider is the minimal amount of visual strength required.

If you asked Jaebum, he would assure you that efficiency and practicality had been one of the key foundational principles that governed the honourable invention of bucket hats.

 

Two. They’re great for when your hair is being your greatest hater and vehemently disagrees with every single hair product you have in your arsenal, and you’re a mere second away from resorting to more extreme measures like a deadly pair of scissors, or maybe the damn _ironing_ -iron.

 

Now, now. Everyone had _those days._

Don’t _you_ go denying it now.

 

‘Bad hair days’, ‘Bed hair moments’, ‘I-would-rather-be-beheaded-than-have-anyone-see-my-hair-right-now situations’. In his day to day life, these were not uncommon occurrences for Im Jaebum and his head full of uncooperative hair. So you could imagine how delighted he was to come across his first ever bucket hat.

To keep the enchanting encounter short though, let’s just say that it was a beautiful and glorious moment in time, considerably deserving to be recorded in the country’s official historical archives.

 

 

Three.

They’re great because they become a signature look – a symbol and a signature that embodies you.

 

Do you know how many people are there on this very planet?

Do you?

Well you _don’t_. Cause it’s always changing, damn it. And cause, well, it’s a big, big number. Even when you can accurately say or write the digits out, it’s too big a number to really comprehend. The point is, there’s really a huuuuuge amount of people out there – even in his own university and the classes he took.

The point is – it’s difficult to be remembered by professors and TAs that are always rushing off from lecture halls to classrooms, especially for the more popular courses that Jaebum was undertaking. And here’s how bucket hats come in handy: they were a distinctive trait that identified him to his professors and TAs alike. Because for some reason completely beyond Jaebum’s comprehension, most people didn’t wear bucket hats.

And so, it sort of became attached to him. Like his personal trademark; something so distinctively him.

He even remembered one time how a TA was running after him shouting aloud for the ‘guy in the bucket hat’ to stop for a moment because he had handed out the wrong assignments. He never forgot Jaebum’s name after that.

 

What a life saver!

It was crazy useful in a good way, to say the least. Bucket hats, that is.

 

 

And four… They’re great, _well_ – kinda.

…they’re great because – how should he put it? – they can (sort-of) shield you from crimson embarrassment and moments in time where you’d rather be a dead bug under a rock than wherever you are in the present moment of a situation.

 

As much as he hated to admit it, Jaebum could be quite a klutz. Let’s just say that he has his (unfortunate) moments.

There was that one time he was running madly, rushing to an important class that he was mere minutes away from being late from. And the lecturer was a notorious _be-late-for-my-class-and-you-are-dead-to-me_ kind of guy. Because of the time constraint, he barely threw on a ridiculously oversized shirt and some jeans, before he shoved his head into his trusty ol’ black bucket hat he had by his desk, and began the desperate journey to make to class on time ~~or die trying~~.

By the time he reached the venue, Jaebum absently pushed open the back door of the lecture hall and sneaked a glance at the time. He was nine _seconds_ away from the official start of the class. _Phew!_

Scanning around for leftover available seats, he made his way to the crowded left wing of the lecture hall, where he was eyeing a particular lone aisle seat. He approached the guy beside the empty seat, and asked in breathy choppy words, if the empty seat was taken.

 

A bemused look flashed across the guy’s eyes for a brief moment then, when their eyes met. The guy looking upwards to a panting, semi-breathless Jaebum; and Jaebum looking down at a pair of soft, bright eyes. The guy blinked once.

And then again.

 

But he did not display any other expressions. Then with a small shake of his head, he said a soft ‘ _no_ ’, which Jaebum could barely hear over the noisy lecture hall, and kindly gestured for him to have a seat. Little lines appeared beneath the guy’s eyes when he smiled.

A sincere smile.

 

It was the kind of smile you don’t really forget.

It would be difficult to.

 

That was the thought that crossed the back of Jaebum’s mind as he scrambled to take the seat, settle down and set up his laptop to ready himself for the lesson; his eyes darted about furiously despite his outwardly calm movements that betrayed nothing about his present state of flashing panic and relief.

 

That smile flashed in his head once more.

 

… it was strange that he’d never seen the guy before.

_Right?_

 

He would remember a face like that.

What was this, week five of the semester? Jaebum practically had a vague impression of everyone who took the same classes he did. An inexplicably anxious feeling crept into his heart.

 

Or, maybe he’d seen wrongly?

As his laptop screen flashed into life, he felt a sudden itching impulse to turn to his right where the guy was currently seated. He was _curious_.

And anyway, the lecturer wasn’t here… _yet_. It couldn’t hurt right?

 

But before he could begin his action plan, he felt a pair of eyes on him, coming from his _right_.

You know that feeling you feel when you sense someone else is looking at you? That was what he felt. Even with the thickness of his bucket hat, Jaebum could feel it distinctively – the guy with the great smile was looking at him. Or in the very least, he was looking in his direction.

…for some reason.

 

Which was _weird_.

 

It gave him an odd tingling chill.

Still, Jaebum kept his gaze down – which was easy considering the downwards tilt of his bucket hat.

 

Or maybe he simply shared a similar sentiment?

 

Then, a light tap on his shoulder struck him out of the blue and Jaebum jumped a little on the inside – he had been so occupied with his mess of thoughts that the last thing he’d expect in the present moment was a random tap from out of nowhere. He turned ever so slightly to where the tap came from: his _right_.

 

The guy with the great smile was wearing nice jeans that ripped at the knees. Not that Jaebum was particularly observant or interested to know that about what pants the guy wore, _but_ because of the tilt of his bucket hat and the way it limited his present line of sight, it was all he could really see when he turned his head and leaned towards his right.

For the first time _ever_ , he contemplated that his trusty ol’ trademark could be a hindrance.

 

The key word being “ _could._ ” 

And that he _contemplated_. For a mere fragment of a second.

 

‘Um. You…’

He looked back at his own jeans that was pretty fashionably destroyed, and at his own knees. It felt that the other guy had far whiter knees.

‘…are you, perhaps… in the wrong class?’ 

 

In a split second, Jaebum felt his heart leaping into his throat and his breath hitch.

 

His eyes widened.

_Huh?_

 

Wait, what?

Then, the front door of the lecture hall was abruptly pushed open, revealing a Prof Choi walking in unhurriedly. Her heels clacked against the floorboards loudly.

Warning signs went off in his head, flashing red alert. Sure, he had a class with Prof Choi _but_ he was supposed to be in Dr Lee’s class right _now_ for his contemporary film class.

 _SHIT_.

 

“I hope you guys are ready for the pop quiz for today’s class.” Her shrill way of speaking never really appealed to Jaebum, but it had never sounded so sinister and dreadful.

_Double shit._

 

‘Shit.’

The word in his mind absently left his lips as a harsh breath of frustration. This meant that _not only_ was he, one, late for the _Devil_ Lee’s be-punctual-or-die class, he was in a strange predicament: he had to figure out how to leave this place _quickly_ without, as much as possible, being noticed by anyone, especially _not_ Prof Choi. And there they were, about to have a damned pop quiz.

Which meant everyone would be glued to their seats.

And that a single movement, or in this case, the movement of his _entire being_ would be amplified and scrutinized like he was a specimen under a microscope.

 

‘…what…?’ was the only word he barely mumbled before stopping himself.

At this point… there was nothing really worth asking, was there? He didn’t even know what to do, or what to ask, or _why_ he was trying to ask questions to _Mr. White Knees_ over on his right. He didn’t even know the guy, for heaven’s sake. He pressed down his laptop screen and kept the materials he took out in the first place, as a fury of thoughts and scenarios scattered wildly in his head.

In the meantime, students in the lecture hall kept away other unwanted materials in preparation for the mini test.

 

‘The back door!’

A hushed but urgent-sounding whisper. Instinctively, Jaebum tilted his head up and stared at Mr. White Knees – eye to eye.

‘Go! The back door!’ he gestured with widened eyes and in frantic movements that paralleled the panicky feeling racing fiercely in Jaebum’s own heart.

 

 _RIGHT!_ – what the _hell_ was he doing, _still_ sitting here like some kind of dumbass?

“Ah!” a short soft yelp of a response was all Jaebum managed before he hunched his back over – having grabbed his packed-up bag, with his laptop in hand, he quickly got up from where he was seated and began, with steady steps, his journey out of the lecture hall.

Noises buzzed around, and slowly died away.

For some reason, the stairs leading to the back door felt horribly long – longer than when he first came into the place, and with each shaky step he took, he could feel more and more pairs of eyes landing on him.

 

_C’mon. C’monnnnn._

Step, step.

_Almost ther-_

 

“Im Jaebum?”

Prof Choi’s voice boomed aloud like a deafening clap of thunder. In that moment, the entire lecture hall became engulfed in a thick silence. And he was only four steps away from the door.

He could feel the numerous heads turning his way.

_Four fucking steps._

FOUR!

 

He felt all their gazes on him, and felt his own face was growing warmer by the passing millisecond.

 

It was no use hiding now.

 

Against every cell of his body, he turned around but kept his gaze low. He could hear his own heartbeat thumping loudly against his chest.

He weakly raised up his right hand to offer a stiff wave of a ‘hello’ in acknowledgement.

 

“I _thought_ it was you.” Her pitchy voice had a not-so-subtle tone of amusement which was annoying to say the least.

“Bucket hats are easy to spot, you know.” She drawled.

 

They _both_ knew _he_ fucked up, but there she was, rubbing it in his face.

 

“…did you miss me so much to come to my class today…hmm _mm_?”

 

Some guffaws were heard in the lecture hall and he felt his ears burning hotly against his hat.

“Ah-ha. Ha.” He barely gave a robotic laugh of a response, while violently screaming in his head _Can I PLEASE leave, now?_

 

“Well, run along now,” she finally sang. “Unless you _really_ want to stay and take the test with the rest of the class.”

With that, he semi-bowed before quickly turning to leap four steps up to reach the back door.

 

That day, Jaebum left that lecture hall with his bag and laptop heavy in his hands, and an embarrassment ringing shrilly in his head. And well, with whatever remaining shards of dignity he had left.

 

 

With his footsteps heavy, he walked over to the right venue this time. And tried to mentally ready himself for the wrath of Dr Lee, but the previous incident was still fresh in his mind, and difficult to rid of. _Damn it._

Oh well, it couldn’t be worse than what he just experienced.

…Right?

 

With a beating heart and a stinging nervousness, he took a deep breath. His hand on the door knob. He didn’t really know what to expect.

Jaebum closed his eyes. A whirl of images flashed through his mind, most of them from the traumatic incident that just happened. For some reason, they stopped at a memory of a certain pair of alluring, and calming eyes.

 

_Mr White Knees._

More like Mr. White Angel, really. Thinking about it now, Jaebum realized that _he_ was the only guy in the whole lecture hall that tried to help him at all.

…and he didn’t even thank the guy.

 

Hm.

 

Jaebum took another steadying deep breath and firmly opened the door, ready to accept a certain fate.

 

And then it was his turn to blink.

He blinked twice.

 

_Huh?_

 

Because the lecture hall was empty.

Lights shut.

Air conditioning off.

 

Utterly void of human existence.

 

Taking a couple steps back, he glanced at the venue title again – did he get the damned place wrong _again_? Nope, it was Lecture Hall 17A.

This was the venue.

 

Then… _why_ …?

 

With an exasperated sigh, he fished out his phone, ready to ~~yell at~~ call a friend who took the same class and ask him why there was no one in the venue. And where the hell was everyon-

 

But then, he stopped.

 

And gawked – mouth slightly open, teeth clenched.

His eyes narrowed.

 

_Today is Thursday._

_Thursday._

_Thurs-fucking-day._

 

 

What. The. Fuck.

Dr Lee’s classes were on _Friday_.

 

He shoved his phone deep into his pockets, chanting in his mind that he was an idiot, with a capital I. And he felt like one, too. All that fuss…and embarrassment.

And… for _what_?

 

Numbly, he turned around to head back to his dorm, dragging his dead footsteps along. He wished his bucket hat would swallow him alive so he didn’t have to bear the walk of shame back.

 

-

 

It was only when he reached his dorm room that he allowed himself crumble under the mental fatigue that the uneventful day has brought him. Or more like, _he_ has brought himself.

Jaebum dropped off his hat by his desk, feeling both relived and annoyed by it.

 

If it weren’t for his hat, the damned Prof would have _never_ recognized him. _Right_? She couldn’t have. She wouldn’t have known it was Im Jaebum even if he was standing two feet in front of her. He experienced it before. Hell, it was barely two semesters ago when she confused him with another guy even though he was literally standing in front of her face, just without the hat.

Damn it.

 

But then-

 

Wait.

_That means…_

 

It suddenly dawned upon him that _that guy_ recognized him, _too_. Back in the lecture hall.

_Right?!_

It made sense. Mr White Knees was trying to tell him he was in the wrong class. But he wouldn’t know that unless he knew _he was Im Jaebum_ and that _Im Jaebum didn’t take this class._

Woah, woah, _woahh._

 

An earth-shattering discovery.

Something about that made him happy, somehow.

 

And then his heart sank back down again.

 

Or, _well_ , it could be the case that he’d never seen Jaebum in his class and therefore concluded that he was in the wrong class. That’s all. A clear, open and shut reasoning.

It was the same line of reasoning Jaebum had in that class, too. When he was fighting the itch to take another look at the guy’s face.

 

What did he say back then? Something like ‘Are you in the wrong class?’

No, he was pretty sure there was a ‘perhaps’ somewhere. The guy said something like ‘ _perhaps_ you are in the wrong class?’

 

 _Ah._ It was like that, wasn’t it?

 

But- _maybe_?

Maybe, just maybe, it was the former? And that he _did_ know Jaebum?

 

It was a nice thought to think about, even though it does admittedly seem unlikely.

 

He sighed.

 _How curious_.

 

He distractedly eyed his bucket hat.

If Jaebum’s ‘ideal’ reasoning was correct… it means Mr White Knees knew about him.

 

 

Because of his hat.

 

Either way, Jaebum made a decision that day that he wanted to see Mr White Knees again, to thank him in person.

 

And well, _you know_.

Figure out his name.

 

It wasn’t like he could shout ‘ _White Knees!_ ’ down the corridor or hallways and not sound like he was borderline insane or a pervert on the loose.


	2. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so the search for a certain someone with knees as white as snow continues.... or something like that.

Five.

_Still_. Bucket hats are great. Allow Jaebum to continue his explanation and reinstate their position as a remarkable creation by mankind.

They’re great because… you can blatantly stare at someone for twenty minutes without looking too obvious (hopefully).

 

In making his determined decision to find and thank _Mr. White Knees_ , Jaebum overlooked the fact that he really didn’t have a good place to start his search.

For one, the only class he knew the guy took was that one Prof Choi class, and considering how _that_ turned out to be, it’s safe to say that he would not be going back into that place anytime soon, as much as he could help it.

But it was the _best_ way to find Mr. White Knees.

Even he knew that much.

 

And it wasn’t like Jaebum had the access to start screening people based on the whiteness of their _knees_. Sh _ee_ sh.

 

Also, because he didn’t know his name, it was excruciatingly difficult to ask any of his buddies for help to locate the guy in a sea of other students that had decently nice eyes and smiles.

So after yet another morning of snooping around ever so unsuspiciously, Jaebum took a break at the cafeteria where he would be meeting some friends for lunch. Some of the seats were filled, but it was not a crowded lot of people. After all, this specific cafeteria was located in a much more secluded part of the university that was not as well known.

 

Which was nice.

 

He found an empty seat himself as he fished out his phone and fiddled with it.

For a brief moment Jaebum considered waiting outside that one class he knew for a fact that White Knees was taking. He could snipe the guy and ambush him when he left the lecture hall, _while_ avoiding Prof Choi and being the target of her obnoxious amusement.

 

_HmmmMMM._

It felt like the best next course of action that he could really take at this point.

 

His lips scrunched upwards.

_Sure,_ it wasn’t a particularly good plan…but _still_ , a plan nonetheless…right?

 

‘I see you’re still wearing this old thing, huh?’ both his friends found where he was sitting in the cafeteria and they exchanged greetings. One of them gave his bucket hat a gentle smack.

 

‘So… how’s the search going?’

 

He had shared the _very_ embarrassing story with his closer, inner circle of friends the very day of the incident when they met up later in the day. And just as they had shared big laughs, they had separately pitched in suggestions to help a determined Jaebum find his _knight-with-white-knees_ , as one of his buddies fondly called the guy.

Jaebum had slapped his friend on the back, but he had smiled all the same.

It had a certain ring to it.

 

‘No luck.’ The tired words fell from his mouth.

They both offered comforting blue smiles and one of them a pat on his back.

 

‘You really wanna find this guy, huh?’

He nodded blankly.

 

Then his other friend spoke up.

‘Hmm… actually-’

 

But before his sentence had barely started, they were interrupted by a group of students that were entering the cafeteria, and specifically, a loud “HAAAAA! ~” high pitched laughter that they were not completely unfamiliar with.

The three of them spontaneously displayed different versions of a grimace and eyed each other. There was only one thought in their heads.

 

It was Jackson Wang.

 

“Diss, diss, _DISSSS_!”

 

“OoOOOhhhh~” Was the monotonous chant that followed those screechy words.

And more merry, loud laughter.

 

Several heads turned over to where the sound was coming from: a jumpy, bouncing-about, hyper active student with a full head of bleached blonde hair, and a group of three other guys that were by his side. The question wasn’t _who Jackson Wang was_ , but it was more like _who were you, if you didn’t know Jackson Wang_. The guy was boisterous and ridiculously popular in their university, and in Jaebum’s humble opinion, was, or should be, especially known for sounding off with a vocal radius of about twenty metres wherever he went.

In other words, he was _loud_.

Horribly so.

And an easy target for an assassination attempt to say the least. Not that Jaebum was planning any.

 

Without really looking, Jaebum glanced in the general direction of the group of students, thinned his lips and shook his head. He had never really spoken to the guy, but felt no compulsion to. It felt like they were different kinds of people altogether anyway.

He drew up invisible lines of separation in his head.

 

On the one side of the cafeteria was him, and his buddies.

Generally _chill_ people. You know. They were good kids that liked having fun. At least that’s what he’d like to think they were. Students who were self-disciplined enough to study hard and mug for exams, scoring decently; making the effort to keep their grades up, helping one another, wanting to do their parents proud, wanting to do themselves proud. But they were also adventurous kids at heart who participated actively in different school events, sports and the like.

The kids who’d occasionally stick a hand out of the window and live on the edge; laughing, learning and experiencing.

Living life.

 

…and then there was people like Jackson and his gang.

Another loud burst of laughter sprang to life from the group as they approached the center of the cafeteria, two rows away from where Jaebum and his friends were currently seated. 

 

For some reason, Jackson gave him a bad vibe.

And, well, a blistering headache.

And for the _nth_ time, the thought registered in the back of his head again:

 

…did these people even _study_? How did they even enter their university? He could barely imagine the sight.

_What_ he could imagine though, was that these people – Jackson and his gang – would often, if not always, be up to some kind of mischief. Being a pain in the ass for some poor bloke trying to study or …some _thing_.

 

_Tsk._

 

In his mind, they were just a bunch of stupid, noisy, rowdy, rude, selfis-

 

_Wait._

 

Jaebum’s lips parted ever so slightly in faint recognition.

He raised his eyebrows and angled his chin upwards for a clearer view.

 

_It couldn’t be-_

 

A pair of crinkled eyes shined through the ruckus of a commotion that emanated from the group of boys – effectively catching Jaebum’s attention and halting the rest of his negative brooding thoughts in less than a splinter of a second.

The rest of the noise and his trail of internal thoughts seemed to drown away as he unblinkingly stared at that one student in particular, the one standing on the far left, the farthest one away, in the bunch.

 

It was _White Knees_.

_White Knees!_

 

Dressed in a simple long sleeved knit shirt and some wide-legged trousers. His knees no longer visible but _still_. It was _him_.

 

He’d know that face anywhere.

Jaebum wouldn’t forget a face, or a smile like that.

 

_He could never_.

 

And the guy was currently smiling brightly as well. His eyes were shining – no, fucking _glistening_ – and it was breath-taking to watch as they curved into soft crescents.

The same little lines appeared under his eyes, as the guy causally reached a hand over cover his hearty laughter.

 

‘-hyung?’

‘H-ellooooo…?’

 

A waving hand in front of his face finally made him detach his line of sight from a certain smiling guy in the distance, to look at his friend in front of him.

Regrouping the present circumstances, and as though he was struck by sudden realization, Jaebum shrunk and lowered himself to a more cowered-over position, behind the friend that was seated directly opposite him, so that he would not be spotted.

His friend, despite having a slightly thinner built, was a tad taller than him. So, it was quite safe to say that he would not be spotted from his current seating position.

 

Sensing something off about Jaebum and his strange chain of actions, his friends mutually exchanged a puzzled look before the one sitting beside Jaebum decided to ask him about it.

‘What’s wrong…hyung?’

 

‘WHITE KNEES!’ he whispered, hushed and a pitch higher than his usual tone of voice.

As if on cue, both his friends turned to the direction where Jaebum had been looking, which made him flinch so, _so_ badly.

He nearly jumped out of his damn _skin_.

 

‘NO don’t look _now_ , DAMN-IT.’ a hurried, worried, but equally hushed tone of a whisper quickly spilled from his mouth as his eyes widened in white horror when both his friends turned to where he was looking.

 

Barely after a short glance, they both turned back at Jaebum, faces caught between finding the entire situation and the way Jaebum was acting to be both hilariously funny and a _dork_ able at the same time. It was a side of Jaebum they had never really seen before.

One of his friends shifted his own hands over to muffle an unbearable laugh while the other, more excited, if anything, turned to Jaebum with a lively expression.

 

‘Huh- you mean White Knees is _Jackson Wang_?!’

‘ _Noo!_ ’ Jaebum denied it almost instantly with a deep frown, like he was insulted by the remark. _How_ could it be that loud guy? A random and unpleasant thought stung in the back of his mind: How- no, _why_ -, was White Knees friends with someone like _Jackson_?

Was he being held hostage or-

 

‘Then _who_?’ an equally hushed, but urgent reply from his friend.

Jaebum nodded off subtly towards where White Knees was standing.

 

‘That other guy. The guy in black.’

 

The excited friend facing the same side as Jaebum meekly stole a glance at the group who were still standing about, staring at the different menus on display. They were all wearing pretty bold pieces, one of them in particular – perhaps the most eye-catching one, was wearing houndstooth printed pants and a red leather jacket.

Talk about making a statement. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the sight.

There were two guys wearing black, and he didn’t have to guess to know which one Jaebum had fondly labelled _White Knees_. Because the other guy wearing black was Jackson Wang himself. And the only other guy dressed in black dressed in a simple but still kinda-chic outfit – a stark contrast to all the bold prints adorned by that group of friends.

In a strange way, it felt like he didn’t quite fit in with the group, yet, from the vibe of the group and the way they interacted with one another: it also felt like he did. He’d fit in perfectly.

The friend looked at the guy for a while longer, then back at Jaebum.

Only to find a faint smile lingering and spreading across his friend’s lips, even though he was sitting in a not-so-comfortable position – trying to not be seen, yet at the same time trying to have a better view of a certain guy in black.

 

\--

 

After some bickering and especially strong protests by Jaebum, it was decided that the friend by his side would grab lunch for all three of them. That way, Jaebum’s cover wouldn’t be blown.

He adjusted and pressed his hat firmly into place, in a way that if you looked straight ahead at him, all you could really see were his nose and mouth. But with a strategic tilt of his head, _he_ could see things ahead clearly. And _discreetly_.

 

The point was, he could not-so-obviously continue his present, _very_ -important-study of Mr. White Knees in the distance.

At the other side of the canteen, the loud group of friends had separately bought their lunches and settled down. And as the red strings of fate would have it, White Knees sat beside Jackson on the bench that happened to be facing Jaebum’s direction, allowing him to have a delightfully full, and pretty unobstructed view of his face and handsome features.

Jaebum robotically held his spoon up to his lips and consumed whatever it brought him, his softening smiley eyes never once leaving the sight of White Knees.

And he repeated the process over.

And over again.

 

Spoon enter food bowl.

Spoon deliver food to mouth.

Open mouth.

Bite and chew. Bite and chew. 

Put spoon down.

Swallow.

Bring more food.

 

His mechanical actions both amused and annoyed his friends, who, for the _life_ of them couldn’t figure out what the big deal was.

 

‘I mean, look.’ The one facing him, finally decided to speak up and confronted Jaebum about it.

Jaebum offered a half-hearted glance at his friend, before he continued looking at the table in the other side of the cafeteria.

 

‘There’s the guy you were trying so hard to find.’

‘Yep.’

 

White Knees had just taken a big bite of his burger which rounded off his cheeks, making them look all squishy and _cute_.

 

‘White Knees, right?’

‘Yeah.’

 

‘And here you are.’

‘Uh-huh.’

 

_Why does his burger look so good_?

 

‘So…’ his friend cleared his throat. ‘ _Why_ the _hell_ are you hiding, again?’

 

_Huh?_

His jaw clenched as he froze into place.

 

Stupidly, he repeated his friend’s words.

‘ _Why_ am I hiding?’

 

‘YES hyung, that was the _question_.’

Both friends exchanged a bewildered look, unsure if they should laugh or cry. Or maybe they should do both.

 

‘Why am _I_ hiding…?’ he paused, conflicting thoughts speeding through his mind.

 

‘Well, I mean- I- Look at _me_.’

A pause.

 

Two pairs of puzzled eyes did as they were told.

 

‘What’s the problem?’

 

‘I’m dressed like _this,_ ’ A furious hand gesture accompanied his words. ‘While he’s dressed like _that_.’ He nodded off in the distance.

 

‘And like-‘

‘OH, it’s _fineeee._ He’d already seen you at your worst.’

 

‘But-’

 

_Huh_?

 

-wait _WHAT_?

 

Jaebum blinked in shock. The words he had meant to utter vanished alive. _What_ was his friend talking about… exactly? He almost immediately turned fully to look at his friend, with an urgent and questioning look.

 

‘Huh? _What_? Don’t give me that look!’ came his friend’s quick response.

‘You said it yourself. That day you rushed to class and threw on whatever and this-’ a hand playfully flicked his hat downwards.

‘-old thing. _You_ obviously didn’t even bother to _shave_. _Right_?’

 

‘More like he didn’t have the time to. But hey, _look_! Looks like someone shaved today~’ chirped in the second friend.

‘Did you even shave properly? There’s like a little stubble here…and there…’

‘Nah, he looks good to me! He’ll be _fineee~_ ’

 

Soft hearty chuckles were heard from both his friends, while Jaebum mentally _facepalms_ his damn self. That is, threw a literal hand through his entire face in his head. He hadn’t even realized-

_What even- ?!_

 

He flashed back the incident through his head.

Scanning rapidly through the images of that day.

 

So, that means… White Knees _saw_ him, didn’t he? His barefaced, panting, ragged, homeless-looking, embarrassing self.

 

He snuck a look back at White Knees in the distance.

 

…but then, he also recalled so clearly: that kind, sincere smile.

Crinkled eyes, shining.

 

Even though Jaebum wasn’t one to brag about himself, he secretly prided himself for having a sense for things. Something like a hunch. It was difficult to explain, but he had this unspoken feeling for people and things. More often than not, this hunch of his directed him away from hypocrites and alerted him about people who were being pretentious, or had harboured ill intentions, allowing him to always be wary about them.

It had never failed him.

 

This feeling in his gut.

 

And recalling that scene in the lecture hall.

That smile, and those eyes.

 

The way they looked, and how they _felt_.

 

The way they had widened in concern.

 

In his mind, White Knees didn’t give him a fake smile that masked some kind of a sneer – the kind he’d seen too many times, on too many faces. Neither was it the kind of formal well-mannered smile that was more for outer appearance than one with any real meaning.

_No._

 

_White Knees…_

White Knees was leaning in towards Jackson at the present moment, giving him all of his undivided attention at something he was saying.

 

_White Knees had been sincere._

Even with his very dishevelled self and under such very embarrassing circumstances – which made his heart thump with an excessive force.

He heard the pounding in his chest. This loud _thump_.

 

_And kind_.

To a stranger like him. A piece of mess of a stranger like him.

 

For the second time, it crossed his mind. It wasn’t White Knees, really.

He had been like a literal White Angel.

 

‘…and anyway, if he had recognized you back then because of your hat,’ he vaguely heard one of his friends saying. ‘He’d probably recognize this _same damned hat_ don’t you think?’

 

Jaebum felt a chill.

And the hairs on his neck standing in attention.

The image of himself in his head offered himself yet another facepalm.

 

Loopholes were appearing in all the places he’d forgotten to look.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and the fluffffff continues hehe.   
>  Jaebum's crushing hard, you know. 
> 
> \- just wanted to drop thanks for all the support and kind words :)  
> This is likely gonna be a short series (maybe a 4 part, I'm still tinkering with it)
> 
> hope you've enjoyed reading this!


	3. three.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's magical"  
> \- wherein our lovely bucket hat enthusiast meets his lovely knight in white knees

Jackson slung his arm casually over White Knees, smiling, laughing.

 

_Why does it feel like he was going to hyperventilate?_

 

White Knees used a free hand to hover over his mouth as he laughed.

Jaebum imagines it would be a carefree, melodious laughter.

 

A goofy smile of his own spread across his own cheeks.

 

Then, things unfolded in slow motion, it felt like.

 

The fan whirled above him, in steady rhythmic motions – as if it was trying hard to cool what felt like his burning face.

 

_Thump._

 

White Knees turns away from leaning towards Jackson, and with the perfect alignment of his line of sight – their eyes met.

Jaebum’s heart did a _flip._

 

White Knees was looking at him.

_Him._

_-THUMP._

 

Kind, bright eyes.

Knowing eyes.

 

And _flopped_ so fucking hard he thought it might have fell out of his chest and onto the floor.

 

He didn’t move.

Was he even breathing?

 

 _THUMP_.

 

White Knees offers a nod of acknowledgement in his direction.

Numbly, Jaebum jerks up a stiff hand in response. Well, it was supposed to be a wave, but his useless hand did no such waving.

 

And suddenly it hit him and he felt his face burn even more than he had thought was possible – his damned friend who was supposed to be covering him had _left_.

To return the food tray, probably.

Or something.

 

Without him realizing.

And he was in the open.

 

 _Exposed_.

 

Or maybe, his friend simply had a death wish.

 

White Knees smiles back a little smile, but before any semblance of an interaction could happen, a guy from their group reintegrated White Knees back into their group conversation, effectively terminating their eye contact.

 

Almost immediately, Jaebum blinked like four times consecutively and looked away, letting out a short breath of air.

And inhaled deeply.

His brain needed some damned _oxygen_.

 

Another hand grabbed onto his stiffly straight hand that was still stupidly upright and pulled it downwards gently. It was his friend.

 

Jaebum eyed the guy beside him.

‘Well, _that_ seems like a promising sign.’ A stupid teasing smile.

 

He narrowed his eyes, venom spilling behind his eyelids.

‘Woah, what- _c’mon_! He told you _twice_ he was leaving but you didn’t say shit…’

 

Jaebum let out a sound that indicated his displeasure, rolling his eyes.

‘…and he _really_ needed to take _one_.’

 

 _-ah_.

_Ugh._

 

He let out a sigh.

Jaebum supposed that was an argument he couldn’t really win against.

 

The main takeaway though –

White Knees _knows_ him.

And if that isn’t a worthy celebration, then Jaebum doesn’t know what is.

 

A giddy smile tickled him into this pink, pleasant mood.

Which did not go unnoticed by the friend beside him.

 

‘You’re hopeless,’ he wheezes out, under his breath. But the words fell on deaf ears. Or maybe more accurately, pink ears.

 

‘Tsk-’ the usual note of irritation by his friend was abruptly cut short.

 

But, because Jaebum had his sight dreamily casted into the distance, and was staring at nothing in particular – in his a trance-like state, he didn’t really notice the uncharacteristic sound. Or how it had sounded like a warning of some sort.

 

‘…but happy.’ Came his own soft, belated response.

 

‘…happy about what?’ a gentle and mellow sounding, sort-of amused voice spoke up behind him, casually. If Jaebum had to imagine, he’d think that it’s the tone of voice that White Knees would have.

 

A pleasant sounding voice like that.

A flashing sign of recognition rang in the back of his mind that was still bubbling with pink joy. It sounded like a voice he wasn’t really familiar with, but has heard before…some _where_.

His mind flashed back to the hushed words in the lecture hall the previous Thursday.

 

_‘The back door!’_

 

It hits him. The question sounds like White Knee’s voice.

The question…

 

Jaebum turns around and nearly withers away in his seat.

Because White Knees.

 

…was standing behind him, all up close and personal.

 

Lovely eyes sparkling with a curious question, lips relaxed into a little soft smile.

 

‘Hi,’ he says.

 

_-THUMP._

And Jaebum’s poor heart was weakening in real time by the _micro_ second.

 

_How-?_

_But White Knees was-_

Almost as quickly as Jaebum turned to look behind him, his head spun right back around to glance at the group that he had been eyeing for the past twenty or so minutes. Only to see that only two of the four students were still remaining in their seat.

 

None of them was White Knees.

He turned back again.

 

And _looked_.

 

Because here White Knees was, in front of him.

Less than a metre away.

 

In the flesh, so to speak.

 

The smile on White Knee’s face widened and he felt so _attacked_.

Jaebum half-guessed that it was because he was acting like an idiot, or because he looked like one. The familiar self-dissing, self-deprecating “ _Idiot, idiot, I-D-I-O-T!_ ” chanted like a useless prayer in the back of his mind.

He shifted his wobbly-feeling legs out from the bench, as quickly as he could manage, trying to stand up for a proper greeting of some sort. His friend’s words crossed his head again and he reproached himself for deciding not to shave that day. _Damn it_.

 

But just as he was standing up, White Knees suddenly lurched forward, footsteps unsteady. He managed to stop himself from falling over entirely, but was now standing a couple of steps _closer_ to Jaebum than where he was previously standing. _Hell_ , if (only!) Jaebum had been standing a _wee_ bit nearer, White Knees would have rammed his head right into his wildly thumping chest.

Jaebum’s heart raced more than he thought was possible.

 

As it happened, Jackson had playfully snuck up from behind and dangled a heavy arm over White Knee’s shoulders, pushing him forward with the sudden unexpected motion.

 

White Knees looked over at Jackson, eyes soft.

 

‘Your friend?’ Jackson casually asked, slowly shifting his gaze away from Jinyoung and setting his eyes on Jaebum.

 

‘ _Um_ …’ White Knees looked at Jaebum for a bit, before he said, ‘I met him in class last week.’

 

And Jaebum could only think: White Knees really had a nice voice.

 _And_ a nice way of saying things. Because what he had said was technically true. And it was _far_ better than saying something like “Yeah, _actually_ , I don’t really know this dumbass of a guy, only that he was some dumb _dude_ who wrongly entered our class and almost decided to stay for the pop quiz too.”

 

White Knees smiles.

_And_ he has a nice smile.

That could make a man weak.

 

But Jaebum already knew that, because there he was feeling all weak and shaky on the inside. Outwardly though, he keeps his composure, standing ( _miraculously_ standing!) with a balance between being chill and being this cool, chic guy.

So he smiles back a knowing smile, which he hopes does not look like the weak he is feeling.

 

Jackson looks at the both of them for a while and before speaking up.

‘Soooo~, I’m gonna’ go back first ‘kay?’ he signals off to where their group had been sitting.

 

White Knees nods and Jackson’s arm on his shoulder pats him once more, in a firm tap, before letting go. He says a cheery ‘Bye!’ to Jaebum as well, before he turns to leave.

And suddenly, Jackson didn’t seem like _that_ bad of a guy.

 

White Knees speaks up first, before Jaebum could even _think_ of what he should say.

 

‘Uh, so that day…’ he started slowly, gaze lowered.

It feels like there is some uncertainty floating on the words coming out of his mouth, as if he wasn’t quite sure how say the words he wanted to say.

Jaebum freezes, momentarily feeling a jittery feeling waver in his stomach.

 

‘…did you manage to get to your class on time?’ White Knees looks up, and at him. Meeting his eyes.

_Ah_.

 

Jaebum felt an electricity jolt from the eye contact, feeling both stunned and stumped at the same time. He felt a slap in the face because suddenly, he got his own personal experience of ‘being at a loss for words’ – an expression he had playfully mocked in his literature class discussions.

He never really liked an expression like that. It felt a bit…unbelievable.

And he had said so indignantly ‘ _Oh c’mon, you can’t be serious. It’s only a figure of speech._ ’

 

‘ _The protagonist couldn’t have really forgotten how to speak!~’_

 

Oh, but he _could_.

Because Jaebum was having a first-hand encounter of the damned expression. He was quite almost literally at a loss of words. Man, karma could be such a raging _bitch_ sometimes.

 

Jaebum nods, because thankfully gravity still works, so even though he couldn’t find the proper words (or words _at all,_ really), or the damned _energy_ to utter the words that were spinning around his head, he could still make a non-verbal response of some kind and not seem like some stump of wood.

And then, he caught himself.

 

-Wait.

No, that’s _not_ it.

 

Jaebum didn’t make it to class _because there was no class_.

 

He stupidly starts to shake his head in between nods.

…but that’s not right _either_!

 

Because Jaebum _did_ make it for the class, _that is_ – the class on _Friday_.

For a fraction of a second, Jaebum’s head-bobbing activities froze.

 

_What the hell was he doing exactly?_

 

A bemused expression overcame White Knee’s handsome features, as his head tilted ever so slightly to his left. Kind eyes still wandering on Jaebum’s face, patiently waiting for an answer of some sort.

 

Before Jaebum realised, his mouth had betrayed him, and had started to string words together to form up some kind of a response to the pretty face in front of him.

He hears himself speak and feels a stabbing embarrassment in his skin.

 

‘I- er, yeah. I m-ean, _no_. I- had no class that- but, I! I was on time…. _Yep._ ’

 

_WHAT._

 

The inner Jaebum was mortified as all _hell_ , and it felt like the entire population of earth heard him speak _those_ words aloud. The words spun around repeatedly at the back of his mind, and he felt a tinge of dizziness break open in his mind.

 

_That did not just happen._

_He did NOT say that,_

_…did he?_

 

_Facepalm._

 

HIS MOUTH HAD ONLY _ONE_ JOB TO DO, _DAMN IT_.

 

Real smooth, Im Jaebum.

Real _fucking_ smooth.

 

A small half-laugh came from his counterpart, and Jaebum’s eyes timidly wandered back to the guy standing in front of him.

 

‘Ah …that’s good.’

 

Soft crescent eyes greeted him, and Jaebum felt a warmth pool in his gut.

He felt his lips forming into small smile despite himself.

 

And time seemed to have stilled, just like that.

 

It was quite the cinematic picturesque moment…except-

_Well._

 

The fact that there was now a state of steadily forming silence that have taken its place between them.

The fact that they were so closely standing together but no longer speaking.

The fact that they were essentially just _looking_ at each other awkwardly.

 

…the fact that Jaebum didn’t want this moment to end, but didn’t know what to do, really.

 

…the fact that White Knees seemed sort of shifting a tad uncomfortably, and seemed to be uncertain of what to do.

 

‘Hm. _Um_. I’ll- I’ll be going then,’ the soft (mildly heart-breaking) parting words leaves White Knee’s mouth, as he gestures in the direction of where Jackson had headed. And he bows, just a little. His actions all signalling the signs of departure.

 

And for all Jaebum knew, he might never see him again.

And… he haven’t even gotten his _damn_ name.

 

The scene unfolds so quickly, suddenly.

And he sees it in front of him: White Knees, turning to leave.

 

Jaebum’s mouth was almost too dry to speak.

The key word being “ _almost_ ”.

 

Because, before he knew it –

His right hand had grabbed onto the other guy’s left hand.

 

A turning motion, caught midway.

An abrupt cold bites into his hands.

 

 _‘DON’t Go!… -yet.’_ Jaebum all but blurts out, the last word lowering into a barely audible sound.

 

He’s caught off guard.

The embarrassing loudness of his own voice shocks himself into a state of red, numb panic and horror. To make things worse, Jaebum swears that almost all the heads in the cafeteria turned towards them in that single instant.

 

 _Yes_ , he had been _that_ loud.

 

And suddenly the undertones of the scene transformed rapidly.

 

He had a stiff hand holding onto White Knees, and it looked like they were some kind of couple breaking up; Jaebum begging, well, _hollering_ for the love of his life not to leave, being the ever-insistent boyfriend; White Knees shocked? At quite the loss for words, maybe? – Unsure of what is happening, what to say, do, or how even to _begin_ to respond to the situation.

 

What _even_ -

…What kind of _drama_ is this?!

 

Jaebum thinks his hat should be going up in _flames_ by now, burning fiery by the sheer embarrassment he feels prickling on him.

 

White Knees looks back at him, question blinking in his eyes. Some strands of his hair slightly lifts off of his face, his mouths curiously parts, just a little.

 

‘…what’s your name?’

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last part to go!!  
> Hope you've had as much fun reading as i did writing, heh.


	4. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "it's magical"  
> \- the other side of the encounter, and so the bucket hat theory fumbles on.

\--

 

Jinyoung could smell that the rain was coming.

It was that all too familiar zing of a fragrant but sour odour that hit the air just before the rain would start to fall. And glancing up, the gathering dark clouds only proved to be foreboding: a heavy rain was on its way. It was only a matter of time.

But for Park Jinyoung, on this particular day, this spelt doom.

He let out a soft sigh, and his shoulders fell, just a little.

 

Jinyoung was…proud.

… _stupidly so._

 

What happened was, a couple of hours earlier, Jinyoung had met up with his circle of friends for a friendly match of soccer.

 _Or_ more like, Jinyoung had met up with his circle of friends _intending_ to play a friendly match of soccer.

 

Well…except that Jackson and his hyperactive self really fanned the fire of Jinyoung’s competitive edge. The mocking jabs, taunting words and exaggerated ‘dabs’, along with Jackson’s ridiculously high-pitched voice was all it took really, and before Jinyoung properly registered what was happening, he was _going all out_ : in his mind this was a fight to the _death_ , street soccer style.

And so, together they cheered, they jeered, passing over comically vicious side eyes and evil glints, complete with the ever petty and juvenile very _English_ insults as the separate teams hustled for the ball.

 

And they raced down the court, from one end to the other, and back again, in their usual loud fashion.

 

…and then, suddenly – they were tied.

_Three-three._

 

And the mood in the court had changed up dramatically.

Gone were the poking laughs and wild fun shouts, heck, even _Jackson Wang_ was quiet for once, the mad glee in his voice abruptly silenced.

 

All eyes in the court were on the ball: This was serious business.

 

Jinyoung felt a metaphorical spotlight landing on him, his every movement scrutinized by the other team, especially when the ball landed in his possession. His eyes dart around furiously to get a sense of his surroundings and strategies connected in his head.

In the spring of an instantaneous second, he leapt into action, bolting down the court. The breeze whizzed by his ears, and a fervent determination set deep into his eyes: he was on _fight mode_.

 

Jinyoung skilfully manoeuvred the ball around the court, dodging several attempts of the other’s team interception and poor attempts at stealing the ball. There was a certain natural grace to his movements, and he crossed down the court smoothly, with strands of his hair lifting away from his forehead against the wind.

 

But the back of his mind was flashing with _warning_ – this was too simple.

His fists balled up, tensed.

 

The other team had to be planning some _thing_ that was just waiting to happen. Jinyoung subtly kept his eye out for an opening of some sort to quickly pass on the ball to his teammate. He could sense something sinister about to unfold.

 

And he wasn’t wrong.

Suddenly, at lightning speed, a smaller built boy-child of a man (fondly known as Bambam, but presently recognised as _the enemy_ ) ambushed him from a 5 o’clock position – his visual blind spot.

 

_DAMN IT._

Panic yelped alive in Jinyoung, and he instinctively skidded hard on the direct concrete to swerve the ball away from Bambam’s quickly approaching feet.

He wouldn’t allow his team to slip up –

…and definitely not under his watch.

 

His right leg twists mid-swerve to forcefully direct the ball away from his opponent.

_Ugh._  

He felt himself falling.

 

_SHIT._

When his feet lands, his ankle connects with the ground at an oddly positioned angle. Jinyoung could feel the sheer force of gravity dominating over him: he was about a fall an _ugly_ fall.

 

But all of that was secondary.

The important thing was the fact that he had (somehow) managed to hold on to the possession of the ball.

 

Swiftly, and gritting through a pain that shot upwards from somewhere along his right leg, he kicked the ball towards a fellow teammate that had passed by the other team’s defences _unnoticed_ (Atta boy!), gearing him up for the victory goal.

His pass was successfully received, as he braced himself for his inevitable collapse onto the ground, scraping both his elbows in the process. Angry red dots and dashes screamed against his pale skin, and he could feel the pain starting to sting.

 

Still, he watches on, a knot forming in his stomach.

Jinyoung was definitely out from it now – it was all up to his teammate to score for the team.

 

And, long story short, he does.

 

A strong left leg kicks the ball forward with an onward trajectory straight into a sweet, sweet victory.

 

…and all hell breaks loose as the victorious team resumed their childish antics from earlier of dissing their newly formalised _inferior_ counterparts.

 

Jinyoung laughs heartily between spurts of breaths, heart still pumping hard and fast.

 

\--

 

‘Hey… Jinyoung-ah!’

Jackson had caught up with him when the group of them parted their ways after the match, landing a soft hand on Jinyoung’s shoulder.

 

‘…you sure you’re… okay…?’

 

Despite his over-the-top gestures and his wild and outgoing self, Jackson was actually a pretty sensitive and perceptive fellow, so Jinyoung wasn’t all that surprised when Jackson asked him about it. After all, it was a _pretty bad_ fall he sustained back there.

One that they were all witness to.

 

 _But_ then…Jinyoung’s obnoxiously dumb pride simply wouldn’t admit that his damn leg was hurting ~~like a bitch~~ , and that there was a swelling throbbing sensation that had effectively possessed the entirety of his right leg. Heck, even the cuts on his elbows (which he had washed and cleaned) were a nagging pain that registered in his system every now and again.

In other words, Jinyoung was presently the living, breathing, barely-walking embodiment of _pain_ itself.

 

But he forcibly shoved it all down, and hid them beneath a façade of pretence.

 

 _Hmm, whatever_ in the world could Jackson be talking about?

He must be mistaken.

 

And so, ‘Nah, I’m good.’ was all he mustered, tone kept as even as possible.

Along with a bright smile that he hoped translated to ‘ _Yep I’m fine. Definitely don’t worry about me or my ankle. These wounds are nothing, bruh!_ ’

 

Pain? _What pain_?

Nope.

 

_Everything’s fine._

_Everything’s just dan-dy~_

 

But then even his _cheeks_ hurt, and Jinyoung can’t properly tell if it’s because he was because he had strained a smile for too long trying to assure his friend that he was completely fine, or if he was simply about to break apart from all the battle wounds he sustained.

 

It just seemed like he was just hurting everywhere.

And that everything felt painful, somehow.

 

Jackson flashed him a look that suggested he was not really convinced, but he didn’t probe any further.

 

Then, after a while more, Jackson left too.

 

‘…I’m stupid.’ Jinyoung mutters under his breath, followed by a self-depreciating puff of a hot breath. Sometimes, he doesn’t know why he does things like that.

He sighs, a soft deflating sigh.

 

_Oh well._

_Oh, well._

 

And then slowly, with Jackson well out of sight, Jinyoung limped at an agonizingly slow pace, one shaky step followed by another, heading for his dorm room, cutting across the open area.

 

\--

 

That was –

…until the first, tiniest droplet of water landed on the corner of his right cheek. And another touched his right forearm. And another, and still another.

 

The raindrops just kept falling.

 

Jinyoung looks on ahead, with a tiredness dwelling in his eyes, an overwhelming exhaustion overcoming him.

Alas, he couldn’t avoid the inevitable.

 

Still, Jinyoung limped on, a slow step at a time, pain biting into his (probably) broken ankle.

It was his dumb decision, and so it was the price he’d pay (albeit through gritted teeth and trembling pain). 

 

What could Jinyoung say?

He was dumb man with a stupid sense of pride.

 

He sighed again, feeling heavier droplets of water landing on his head and shoulders. A glance ahead wasn’t much encouragement: his destination had never felt so far away and out of reach.

 

_Pit, pat._

_Pit, pat._

 

And the droplets continued falling, more and more, quicker and quicker.

There was no running from this – both metaphorically and well, _literally_.

 

_Pit, pat._

_Pit-_

 

Just as Jinyoung was coming to terms with his present predicament – walking openly in the midst of a soon-to-be-downpour whilst every bone in his body was threatening to break, the rain suddenly stopped.

 

…-or rather, the rain stopped falling on _him_.

 

A figure appeared from his left, magically so. (Because Jinyoung could _swear_ that he hadn’t seen anyone coming anywhere close to where he was headed)

Above him, an umbrella opened up in its full glory, protecting him from the flood of the incoming rain. Jinyoung’s eyes darted to the shade that was above him, and down to the hand holding on the umbrella, all whilst filled with a sparkle of hope and surprise.

 

Firm, steady hands, unshaking.

 

Momentarily, his own pain was forgotten.

 

And Jinyoung dared himself to look.

Slowly, he turned his head, and his wavering eyes wandered upwards.

 

Bit by bit.

 

A slow reveal of some sort unfolded, like that.

Jinyoung’s gaze faltered somewhat, lowered for half a second, before daring to look again.

Amidst the falling rain, he stood still like that, hearing the raindrops like distant echoes from a faraway cave.

 

Together with the stranger.

 

Everything stilled, then.

_Pit, pat._

 

The man on his left.

Nonchalant, soft eyes, that looked straight on ahead.

 

A pointed nose, a sharp jawline.

A strong gaze.

 

_Pit, pat._

 

The rain kept falling, but the coldness didn’t seem so bad anymore.

 

Lips closed, but not fully.

The man’s dark brown hair was tousled up in a stylish mess, unruly and still, handsomely so.

 

There was something rough and gruffly about his features, and the way he looked… and _yet_.

Jinyoung couldn’t quite look away.

 

‘Hold this.’

There was a hypnotic air of fierce charisma in the stranger’s voice when he said that. And Jinyoung’s hand moved automatically to where they were instructed.

 

Their fingertips brushed, ever so slightly.

A warm touch, which ended before it could begin.

 

Slowly, the kind stranger’s firm hands let go of the handle of the umbrella, and moved to pull his own leather jacket over atop his head. Then, wordlessly, the stranger left, making a quick dash under the quickly pouring rain, becoming smaller and smaller into the distance, until he was a mere speck of a black spot in the distance that eventually disappeared from Jinyoung’s sight.

 

Jinyoung stood there for the longest time, watching, listening.

If it wasn’t for the umbrella he was holding on to, he wouldn’t have believed that _that_ just happened. 

 

The rain sounds flooded his ears, and something squeezed in his chest.

_Hard._

 

\--

 

Jinyoung doesn’t see the stranger again, though, for a really long time.

At least, it felt like a really long time.

 

Even though he’d very much like to.

Even though he had spent an unusually long time walking back to his dorms since that day in the rain. Counting footsteps, and remembering the day he met the guy on that open space.

 

The smell in the air, that feeling in his heart.

 

Jinyoung puts the umbrella in his dorm room, where it was easily visible.

Because it was special, and he wanted it kept in his sight.

 

But he hesitates, too.

Because, at the same time, he wants to return the umbrella to its owner.

 

\--

 

After a day too many has passed, Jinyoung thinks about how he may never see the stranger again.

There’s something sharply upsetting about that thought.  

 

He stares at the umbrella – the only remaining piece of evidence for Jinyoung to convince himself that that day in the rain _did_ in fact _happen_ , and that it wasn’t some crazy made-up story that he had strung together in the madness of his pain.

Because the memories he had of that day were quickly fading, becoming murkier with the passing of time.

 

 

…until one day.

A worried, out of breath raspy voice –

 

‘ _Excuse me, is this seat taken?’_

 

The man never once looked his way, with that voice he could never forget.

That voice, that day.

 

Those hands, and the image of the stranger running, disappearing into the rain.

 

Their eyes met.

All the feelings, and fragments of that day, they rushed back into his mind, forceful, and so, so overwhelming.

Those same eyes, that same gaze.

 

And there it was again: that squeeze in his chest.

 

_What was it?_

 

Jinyoung thinks that it was the kindness of the moment that was shaking up his heart. The fact that a complete stranger could do that for him. The fact that a complete stranger _had_ done that for him. On a day where he was so decidedly alone, that a miracle could happen like that.

Jinyoung thinks it was the way the man had said those words. Affirmative, and kind. Firm hands, unwavering.

Jinyoung thinks it was something about how the man just ran into the rain, with a loosely flung-over jacket that barely shielded him from anything.

And never looked back, not even once.

 

The feeling in his chest swells up, and before he notices, he was just blatantly staring at the stranger, eyes tracing his every movement. 

 

…Jinyoung thinks about how handsome the man was-

Heck, the man _is_ handsome. More so than he had remembered. Jinyoung couldn’t seem to look away from his side profile, just as he did that day in the grey rain.

 

His eyes so pointed and focused.

That deep look in his eyes.

 

His heartbeat dances into a steadily increasing pulse.

 

But that was all beside the point.

Jinyoung smiles, without really realizing, because he just _does_.

 

It felt natural, when his thoughts singled on the man in the rain.

A light feeling rises up in his chest.

 

Grows, and grows.

 

Jinyoung just thinks, he’s glad that they got to meet again, after the rain.

 

\--

 

But Jinyoung is being stupid again.

He approached his stranger in the rain in the middle of the cafeteria, but…

 

He’s self-conscious.

_…stupidly so._

He doesn’t know where exactly he got the courage from, or _whatever in the world_ possessed him to approach the damn guy in the first place, but then suddenly: there he was.

Trying to start a conversation with this ridiculously kind-hearted, ridiculously good looking man.

…and Jinyoung doesn’t _do_ conversations.

 

So Jinyoung stumbles, falters, pauses.

 

Because-

 

Because, how do you even begin to tell a complete stranger _you don’t even know_ that you’ve been missing them?

Because, how can you just pluck out a stranger’s umbrella from your own bag and return to the guy without seeming like some kind of obsessive stalker?

Because, his head was fumbling through storms of wild thoughts and conversation starters, and yet all he could come out with were short and stupidly random questions about _punctuality_.

 

But then –

‘…what’s your name?’ 

 

Jinyoung doesn’t know what happened, or what _was_ happening.

 

But in the next slice of time, there was a gentle warmth spreading from his wrist, where it was being held by the kind stranger.

Jinyoung only knows, that the kind stranger’s name was _Im Jaebum._

 

Now, _that’s_ something he never forgets.

(Not that he’d ever want to.)

 

\--

 

Six.

Well, to Jaebum, it was his bucket hat that led him to _Park Jinyoung_.

And if that isn’t a reason enough why bucket hats are great… no other reason will suffice.

(Jinyoung would only share his day in the rain much later on, and even then, Jaebum and his strange fixation with his bucket hat simply refused to believe that his bucket hat didn’t play a divine role in their miraculous encounter.)

 

Seven.

Bucket Hats are great because, _well_.

 

Jinyoung said it to Jaebum then, on a random day in June.

Jaebum doesn’t remember why Jinyoung said what he did, but it’s a sentence that leaves a light, tinging pink feeling flying up in the walls of his heart.

 

‘ _Your bucket hat is pretty_ ’

 

Jaebum’s gaze is soft.

His eyes half lidded, and smiley.

 

_Oh-so-smiley._

 

There’s a blush peeking through his cheeks when he shyly says, a small ‘Thank you.’

 

\--

 

Conclusion?

 

Park Jinyoung thinks bucket hats look great on Im Jaebum, and _hey_ , isn’t that all that really matters?

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello, thank you for reading.  
> I really hoped that there was something about the story that you enjoyed :) 
> 
> Just some notes:  
> 'Seven' was inspired by that one vlive where Jaebum wearing his bucket hat and got kinda shy where Jinyoung commented on his bucket hat HEHE. It was also a major driving force to this story. 
> 
> The working title for this piece was actually 'motto' and it had a very very different direction but i settled on a fluffy story instead, heh. 
> 
> ...the ending was tough for me.  
> I realise I'm bad at endings in general but yeah. I like to keep open, non-specific endings, which may not be to your taste. >< oops. even so, i hope there's still some kind of closure for you, the reader. 
> 
> AND. welp, i'm kinda sorry for the rather long backstory for Jinyoung's part. it was intended to be a short preview to establish the circumstances but i kinda got carried away, heh. 
> 
> once again, thank you for reading, cheers!


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